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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699517">It’s 2:35 A.M., and God is Beating me at Chess</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scott_Tape/pseuds/Scott_Tape'>Scott_Tape</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And there was one house (oh my god there was one house), Domestic Fluff, Gen, Gman and Bubby are old qprs but it’s not rly touched on. Just KNOW that they are, Late at Night, Multi, No beta we die like low-res half life military men, Post-Canon, Rated teen for language, domestic AU, still technically a game but that’s not covered here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:14:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scott_Tape/pseuds/Scott_Tape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Short n simple post-canon domestic fic, in which Bubby has a Moment because he realizes that everything's okay and he’s happy. As in character as it can be when you go from “Violence murder blood chaos” to “Six people live in one house and they are all happy and okay :].”</p><p>I very briefly read over this to check for mistakes so there might still be some errors. I wrote this at 3 am &lt;3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benrey &amp; Bubby (Half-Life), Benrey/Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s 2:35 A.M., and God is Beating me at Chess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     “Doctor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby jerked his head up, squinting his eyes. “Mh? Oh- fuck, uh-“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He looked down at the simple table in front of him- at the chessboard laid down on top of it. It was- it was a time. There were definitely things happening. Hold on- let him get his bearings again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      Late night. He was playing chess. Right. Must’ve… almost dozed off for a moment there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “Shit- uh- who’s turn’sit?” He looked up at the man sitting across from him. Gman’s eyes were on him as he stared from the other side, legs crossed and a hand on the table, drumming his fingers on the surface. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     His posture always made him look like he was at high-alert, even when he was sitting. Like at any moment he’d need to jump and run. And yet his eyes were always calm. His expression might even seem cold, to the untrained eye, but Bubby knew calm from him when he saw it. He also knew concern, which was shown in his expression by the slightest crease of his brows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “...are you alright?” Gman asked. His arms moved to cross over his chest. “You… have gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> close… to nearly passing out. At least…mh... three times, now. In the middle of our game, no less.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby sighed, rubbing a tired hand down his face. “Ah- yeah, sorry, G. I uh- Gordon needed someone to drop Josh off. At school. This fucking kid goes to school at six in the morning- I haven’t had to wake up before six in </span>
  <em>
    <span>years.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He let out a half-hearted chuckle. “S’been a long day, is all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     His late night companion nodded in understanding. “Perhaps it’s best to just… disband, for the night… hm?” he offered. “I’m not opposed… to picking this up another time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “What? Worried I’m winning?” Bubby laughed, flashing half a grin in response. “No- but, yeah, that would be good, I think. I’ve spread myself thin for the night.” He glanced around the room, searching for a clock. The living room always felt significantly </span>
  <em>
    <span>larger</span>
  </em>
  <span> when there weren’t five different people occupying it. Tonight, especially, it felt comforting. But maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking. “What time’sit anyways?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “2:35, A.M…. if my instincts are to be trusted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>G. The lengths I go for you and a game of fucking chess.” Bubby pulled himself from his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re lucky I survived this long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Well… I’d wager that you’ve been half-dead… for about half an hour… at this point.” Gman retorted with a ghost of amusement. “And… Besides... you were the one who called me here tonight. Seems more like… you’ve dug your own… your own grave tonight, hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Fuck you. I let you in my house and this is how you treat me? You bastard.” Bubby laughed. The playful jab was enough to elicit the slightest chuckle from the pale man, which was no minor victory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      His companion finally stood, grabbing his overcoat that had been laid on the back of his chair. He draped it over his arm and gave a nod. “Get some rest, Bubby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be out like a light, don’t even worry about me.” Bubby responded by waving a playfully dismissive hand in his friend’s direction. “Goodnight, G.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     There was a pleasant hum of acknowledgement from Gman before he disappeared. Bubby was quick to avert his eyes when he made his way back to The Void, like he always did. The shift of reality as Gman suddenly blinked out of existence had a habit of giving him a headache. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     In an instant, he was alone in the living room. Wherever Gman had gone, he had taken their nightly game of chess with him, chairs and all (As well as the coffee mug that Bubby had left on the table. He had a feeling he wasn’t getting that back.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby’s thought process now was pretty simply: sleep. So, he began to make his way to his room on the second floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He clicked off the light as he left the living room, blinking in surprise at how dark it made the rest of the area. He nearly dragged his feet as he made his way to the staircase, not in the mood to step on something in the dark. It was a nice house to be fair, but there were still six people living in it, and it was bound to get cluttered often.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He was greeted with just the slightest tinge of light as reached the bottom of the staircase. A dark blue light barely crept to where he stood. The farther he got up, the more it shown, though still remaining rather dim. Accompanied by the light was the sound of some generic music-box-esque tune, and patterns of stars that cascaded across a specific sliver of the wooden floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Just across from the top of the staircase, a door was cracked open just slightly. Joshua’s room. It must be his night light, Bubby assumed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He wasn’t sure why he decided to step closer to the room, but he made an effort to keep quiet as he pushed the door open just slightly to look inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Joshua was asleep in his bed, tucked into the farthest corner of the room. Sunkist rested on top of his covers, wrapped around him like a protective shield. She lifted her head slightly at the sound of the creaking door, letting out a knowledgeable “</span>
  <em>
    <span>boof</span>
  </em>
  <span>” and a string of sweet voice. Bubby nodded in response. Thank you Sunkist, very cool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He turned to make his way down to his own room. He made sure that he didn’t close the door the entire way when he left. Joshua liked it when it was opened, just a little bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Now, obviously, Bubby hadn’t intended to go on a nightly check-up of everyone. He wasn’t that kind of guy. It was just… a matter of circumstance. And unlike Joshua’s, which had only been cracked open, Gordon’s door was fully agape at the end of the hall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Gordon, Tommy, and Benrey were all in the room to the left, at the end. Coomer and Bubby were directly across the hall. So, Bubby was going to pass by them anyways. If their door was wide open, he might as well just check in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     If Bubby was a sentimental bitch- which he was not- he would’ve said that the scene he saw was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking heart-warming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     The room was barely lit, a dark t-shirt had been thrown over the lampshade of the lamp on the nightstand, but it was just enough light to illuminate three obvious figures in the bed in the middle of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      You could tell by the way they were all laid out, that the three were in dire need of a new bed. The queen-sized one they slept in just barely housed all of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     They probably would have all been hanging off the edges if they weren’t tangled together in the fucking mess that they were. Arms and legs going over and under each other, heads buried in the comforting corners between necks and shoulders. There was something so natural about the unnatural positions they were settled into. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Judging by the states they were all in, it wasn’t even supposed to happen this way. Gordon’s glasses were holding onto his face by a miracle alone, Tommy had a book spread across his chest, and none of them were out of their day clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     But the looks of peace on their face was enough of a testament to how at home they all felt. Next to each other, just pleased to occupy the same space, that’s all they really needed, huh? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby didn’t even catch himself leaning against the doorframe until he heard a voice ring out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “Got the dumbest fuckin’ grin on your face right now, man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Benrey’s voice was barely past a vaguely discernible rumble, but it was enough to knock Bubby out of his calm state. He felt like a child who’d just been caught by their parent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Benrey was on the farthest side of the bed, closest to the doorway. His bright eyes poked out from the shadow of his sunken face. He propped himself up with an arm and yawned. “Getting all soft n shit tonight, dude? S’matter, domestic vibes got your tongue?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby averted his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “Oh- bite me. I was just checking in. Your door was wide open.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Benrey let out a hum, shrugging. “Yeah, yeah. What’re you doing up so late, man?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Why do you ask? Oh, are you worried about me? And </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one being ‘soft n shit?’” Bubby shot back with no real bite to his tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I’m worried about everyone who’ll have to deal with you if you don’t get some sleep, dude,” Benrey responded, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Mhghfhvhddbdhv- you’re the worst when you don’t sleep well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “You flatter me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “S’my job.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby rolled his eyes and dared to allow himself a lighthearted laugh. He tapped his knuckles on the doorframe absentmindedly. “You want this shut?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Nah. Don’t-“ A yawn cut Benrey off. “-hmm… worry ‘bout it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Alright. Goodnight, Benrey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Sweet dreams~” Benrey called out in a mockingly polite tone as Bubby turned around. Bubby groaned jokingly in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     The last thing he heard was the sound of Benrey slumping back onto the bed as he opened the door to his own room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     The softness with which he shut the door behind him was more out of personal habit than anything. Coomer always slept like a rock, he didn’t have to worry about anything waking him up. If he wanted to stay asleep, he’d stay asleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Bubby wasn’t about to worry himself with changing into anything more comfortable than what he already wore. A muscle shirt and sweatpants hardly counted as day clothes anyways, and he was sure if he had to expend </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> more energy tonight, he’d probably just keel over and pass out on the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He slowly made his way to the other side of the bed (The right side. Coomer always got the left side, that was the deal.) He traced his fingers along the edges of the bed, making sure he could feel his way over without bumping into anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It was nearly pitch black in the room, save for a cascade of cool moonlight that came through the window. It hit just the perfect spot, illuminating the head of the bed. He could see Coomer rested on his side, one arm thrown over his own head, the other laid comfortably beneath his pillow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It was always such an experience to see Coomer like this. He was often bombastic, an all-or-nothing type man with no filter to be found. Bubby was nothing if not always admirable of Coomer, but this moment outlined something unique to him. As he calmly sat down on his own side of the bed, he watched Coomer. He was captivated at the sight of such a strong man brought to such a careful demeanor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It made him think of every moment they had- every time where Coomer’s tone dropped low, and his words became quiet and slow, but the emotion behind them was never lost. It made him think of nights where all he had to do was rest in his arms, feel his head buried in the crook of his neck, and just feel at home and at peace. Each moment where Bubby got to experience a more passive, more intimate side of this man, all reflected back to him in the face of his sleeping husband.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “What did I do to deserve to make it this far with you?” Bubby’s voice was barely an audible whisper. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Coomer’s forehead, brushing the hair from his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     As he set his glasses down on his nightstand, and laid down beneath the covers, he finally understood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    This was it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Everything, no matter how batshit insane it all was, it led to this. Every experiment, every restless night in Black Mesa, every alien fought and military personnel avoided, it all led him here. It led them </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Now that Bubby finally had the opportunity to do things, to go places, he finally felt content with staying still. No one has to tell him to stay, to be quiet. He got to choose. He got to choose when to leave, when to… visit with his friend, when to rest. And he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supported. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just the most menial of things- getting to see Sunkist protecting Joshua in the night, the fleeing interaction with Benrey- Bubby remembered having months, years even, where he never had anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>remotely</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    He didn’t have friends then, and by God, he never thought he’d have </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     But that’s what it felt like now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     A wave of ecstasy washed over him. Just a brief moment of pure relief, as he held his face in his hands. Fuck. He had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Domestic life was the last thing that he would have asked for,  God forbid if it was ever a possibility that crossed his mind for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>moment</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Black Mesa. But now that he had it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He couldn’t have felt better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    He felt so safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    He rolled over on his side, leaning in close to Coomer. He wrapped an arm around him, burying his head in his hair, and let out a content sigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     This was good.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is so self indulgent don’t even LOOK at me. Uhh big thanks to my friend @nikola_tesla_slowburn for talking with me about domestic hlvrai for god knows how long and giving me this banger idea for a fic. I’ve decided that I don’t care if this is soft and self indulgent I’m putting this here because I’m HAPPY with it, damnit &gt;:].</p></blockquote></div></div>
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